


Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me

by Marks



Category: Young Veins
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Battle, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-25
Updated: 2010-01-25
Packaged: 2017-12-14 16:50:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/pseuds/Marks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon's always been drunk when they've done this, but he's not right now and he doesn't know how to feel about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me

**Author's Note:**

> in public, wall, kneel

"Ryan, fuck, wait."

Jon's always been drunk when they've done this, but he's not right now and he doesn't know how to feel about that. But maybe sober's what Ryan wants: if a drunk Jon kneels in an alley, does it really count the next day? He goes easily enough when Ryan pushes him out the door and into the night air, shivering as the door bangs shut behind them.

Ryan gets both his hands on Jon's shoulders and shoves him backward, but Jon's surging forward for a kiss even before his back hits the brick behind him. Apparently whether or not Jon's had enough tequila doesn't matter when Ryan's this insistent. Ryan tastes like rum and coke, sickly sweetness that Jon sucks eagerly from his tongue, and when Ryan pulls back for a breath, Jon can't help reaching up and pressing his thumb against Ryan's bottom lip. When Ryan gets worked up, he breathes through his mouth, fast little breaths that hitch in his chest, and his lips get swollen and red as soon as Jon's beard rubs rough against them.

"What was that about waiting?" Ryan asks, pitching his voice low in a way that makes Jon shift restlessly against him, something that changes Ryan's possessive grip from Jon's arms to his waist. Ryan pushes up hard against Jon, driving him even closer to the wall. His t-shirt rides up, brick scraping his skin, and that would probably hurt under normal circumstances, but Jon's attention is all on Ryan now, the way Ryan leans in to nudge Jon's jaw with his nose and press his wet mouth to Jon's throat.

"No waiting," Jon confirms. He slips out of Ryan's grasp and falls to his knees, dropping an open-mouthed kiss to the front of Ryan's pants and smiling to himself when Ryan gasps as Jon breathes out. The cool damp of the concrete alleyway is seeping through his jeans, but it's not that bad with Ryan staring down at him, wide eyes unfocused. Jon works his zipper open, easy now sober after months of drunken practice.

Ryan lets out a hiss when Jon pulls his cock out and Jon presses his advantage by grabbing Ryan's hips and steering him around so it's his back against the wall now. This isn't as well-thought out as it could have been, though; Ryan's fucking huge dick hits Jon across the cheek, which makes Ryan huff out a laugh, and Jon knows, he _knows_ , he should laugh along with him, he really does, but all it does is make him swallow reflexively and meet Ryan's eyes in a hard stare. Ryan's laughter dies in his throat.

"Well," Ryan says. "That's new."

"Not bad," Jon says, and he says it like a statement but means it like a question. Ryan must hear it because he shakes his head.

"No, not bad." Ryan sinks his hands into Jon's hair and tugs him in. Jon thinks about fighting it, but that's counterproductive when he can smell Ryan from here and his mouth is watering. He presses the heel of his palm flat against the front of his jeans, a little personal promise of soon, and reaches up to tug Ryan's pants down further, leaving him naked from waist to mid-thigh right in the middle of the alley. Anyone could turn a corner and see them, not like they wouldn't know what was going on right away with Jon on his knees, his hands tight around Ryan's bare hips. Jon likes the idea of someone seeing them more than he's willing to admit, and that might explain why Ryan grabbed his wrist and pulled him out here: Ryan sometimes knows what Jon wants even before Jon knows how to ask for it. He hates and loves that about Ryan. 

He opens his mouth and takes Ryan in as far as he can, making Ryan choke on a moan. Jon wants to look up, but it's too hard when he's concentrating on taking Ryan deep and his eyes water a little every time he swallows around Ryan's cock. It's okay, though, the way Ryan's hands twitch against Jon's scalp, how he pulls Jon's hair a little every time Jon eases off before sucking him down again. It makes Jon go faster, timing his movements with Ryan's quickening breaths.

"Shit, _Jon_ ," Ryan says, cutting through the night's quiet. Jon pulls back just to suck on the head and Ryan shudders and comes right in Jon's mouth. "Sorry, sorry," Ryan babbles apologetically, his shaking hands hauling Jon back to his feet; Jon doesn't say anything, just kisses Ryan hard and pushes his come into Ryan's mouth. Ryan makes a surprised noise but doesn't stop him, taking it, taking all of it, and he's reaching down to fumble with Jon's fly before they've even broken apart.

"Wait," Jon gasps, his mouth still moving against Ryan's. "I want you to fuck me."

Ryan lets out a deep chuckle. "Here? You might need to give me a minute," he says, but Jon grabs Ryan's shirt in two fistfuls and pulls. He doesn't want this turning into a joke.

"Not here," Jon says seriously, rubbing up against Ryan's hip. "In a bed." That's something else they haven't done, not when Jon's usually drunk and in denial. "I don't want to come until I'm on my back." 

Ryan's throat works at Jon's words, but he doesn't say anything. He just stares at Jon for a second, bites his bottom lip, and nods.


End file.
